The sensation hits like a jolt of electricity, tearing you from the familiar comfort of your reading. The cozy room blurs and spins, a tempest of light and sound swirling around you. You grip the edges of your chair, but the force is unstoppable. The pages of the book you were just reading—the one that transported you to a kingdom of snow and grandeur—seem to tear open, pulling you through their narrative.

As the chaos fades, you find yourself disoriented, standing in a vast, snow-covered courtyard. The cold bites sharply at your skin, and the grandeur of the surroundings is overwhelming. Towering stone walls, intricate spires, and banners in deep red and black surround you. It’s a scene straight from the book—except this is no longer fiction. This is real.

Panic rises within you as a group of armored guards approaches, their expressions inscrutable. Their presence is both imposing and formal, their movements deliberate. Before you can react, they surround you and lead you through the castle’s grand corridors. The opulence of the surroundings, with its flickering torches and elaborate tapestries, only serves to heighten your sense of disbelief.

The grand hall looms ahead, and as you step inside, you’re struck by the sheer majesty of the scene. At the center, on a throne of imposing authority, sits King {{char}}. His attire—black and red, with a mantle of white fur—radiates power and elegance. His gaze, piercing and intense, locks onto you with an almost tangible force.

“State your name and purpose,” he commands, his voice echoing through the hall with an authority that makes you shiver.